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Also by Robert Harris
FICTION
Conspirata
The Ghost Writer
Imperium
Pompeii
Archangel
Enigma
Fatherland
The Fear Index
An Officer and a Spy
NONFICTION
Selling Hitler
A Higher Form of Killing (with Jeremy Paxman)
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
Copyright © 2015 by Robert Harris
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Originally published in hardcover in Great Britain by Hutchinson, a division of Penguin Random House Ltd., London, in 2015.
www.aaknopf.com
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
ISBN 9780307957948 (hardcover) /ISBN 9780307957962 (eBook)
LCCN: 2015955103
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Maps by Neil Gower
Cover illustration by Matt Buck
v4.1
ep
To Holly
The melancholy of the antique world seems to me more profound than that of the
moderns, all of whom more or less imply that beyond the dark void lies immortality.
But for the ancients that “black hole” was infinity itself; their dreams loom and vanish
against a background of immutable ebony. No crying out, no convulsions—nothing
but the fixity of a pensive gaze. Just when the gods had ceased to be and the Christ
had not yet come, there was a unique moment in history, between Cicero and Marcus
Aurelius, when man stood alone. Nowhere else do I find that particular grandeur.
—Gustave Flaubert, letter to Mme Roger de Genettes, 1861
Alive, Cicero enhanced life. So can his letters do, if only for a student here and there,
taking time away from belittling despairs to live among Virgil’s Togaed People,
desperate masters of a larger world.
—D. R. Shackleton Bailey, Cicero,1971
Contents
Cover
Also by Robert Harris
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Maps
The Roman Empire
Cicero's Italy 44 BC
Author’s Note
Dramatis Personae
Part One: Exile
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Part Two: Redux
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Glossary
Acknowledgements
A Note About the Author
Detail left
Detail right
Dictator tells the story of the final fifteen years in the life of the Roman statesman Cicero, imagined
in the form of a biography written by his secretary, Tiro.
That there was such a man as Tiro and that he wrote such a book are well-attested historical facts.
Born a slave on the family estate, he was three years younger than his master but long outlived him,
surviving, according to Saint Jerome, until he reached his hundredth year.
“Your services to me are beyond count,” Cicero wrote to him in 50 BC, “in my home and out of it, in
Rome and abroad, in private affairs and public, in my studies and literary work…” Tiro was the first
man to record a speech in the Senate verbatim, and his shorthand system, known as Notae Tironianae,
was still in use in the Church in the sixth century; indeed some traces of it (the symbol “&,” the
abbreviations etc., NB, i.e., e.g.) survive to this day. He also wrote several treatises on the
development of Latin. His multi-volume life of Cicero is referred to as a source by the first-century
historian Asconius Pedianus; Plutarch cites it twice. But, like the rest of Tiro’s literary output, the
book disappeared amid the collapse of the Roman Empire.
What must it have been like, one wonders? Cicero’s life was extraordinary, even by the hectic
standards of the age. From relatively lowly origins compared to his aristocratic rivals, and despite his
lack of interest in military matters, deploying his skill as an orator and the brilliance of his intellect he
rose at meteoric speed through the Roman political system, until, against all the odds, he finally was
elected consul at the youngest-permitted age of forty-two.
There followed a crisis-stricken year in office—63 BC—during which he was obliged to deal with a
conspiracy to overthrow the republic led by Sergius Catilina. To suppress the revolt, the Senate, under
Cicero’s presidency, ordered the execution of five prominent citizens—an episode that haunted his
career ever afterwards.
When subsequently the three most powerful men in Rome—Julius Caesar, Pompey the Great and
Marcus Crassus—joined forces in a so-called triumvirate to dominate the state, Cicero decided to
oppose them. Caesar in retaliation, using his powers as chief priest, unleashed the ambitious
aristocratic demagogue, Clodius—an old enemy of Cicero’s—to destroy him. By allowing Clodius to
renounce his patrician status and become a plebeian, Caesar opened the way for his election as tribune.
Tribunes had the power to haul citizens before the people, to harass and persecute them. Cicero swiftly
decided he had no choice but to flee Rome. It is at this desperate point in his fortunes that Dictator
begins.
My aim has been to describe, as accurately as I can within the conventions of fiction, the end of the
Roman Republic as it might have been experienced by Cicero and Tiro. Wherever possible, the letters
and speeches and descriptions of events have been drawn from the original sources.
As Dictator encompasses what was arguably—at least until the convulsions of 1933–45—the most
tumultuous era in human history, maps, a glossary and a cast of characters have been provided to
assist the reader in navigating Cicero’s sprawling and collapsing world.
—Robert Harris
Kintbury, 8 June 2015
Afranius, Lucius an ally of Pompey’s from his home region of Picenum; one of Pompey’s army
commanders in the war against Mithradates; consul in 60 BC
Agrippa, Marcus Vipsanius Octavian’s closest associate, aged twenty
Ahenobarbus, Lucius Domitius patrician senator; praetor in 58 BC; married to Cato’s sister; a
determined enemy of Caesar
Antony, Mark (Marcus Antonius) renowned as a brave and enterprising soldier under Caesar’s
command in Gaul; grandson of a famous orator and consul; stepson of one of the Catiline conspirators
executed by Cicero
Atticus, Titus Pomponius Cicero’s closest friend; an equestrian, an Epicurean, immensely wealthy;
brother-in-law to Quintus Cicero, who is married to his sister, Pomponia
Balbus, Lucius Cornelius wealthy Spaniard originally allied to Pompey and then to Caesar, whose
homme d’affaires he became in Rome
Bibulus, Marcus Calpurnius Caesar’s colleague as consul in 59 BC, and his staunch opponent
Brutus, Marcus Junius direct descendant of the Brutus who drove the kings from Rome and
established the republic in the sixth century BC; son of Servilia, nephew of Cato; the great figurehead
of the constitutionalists
Caesar, Gaius Julius former consul; a member of the “triumvirate” with Pompey and Crassus;
governor of three Roman provinces—Nearer and Further Gaul and Bithynia; six years Cicero’s junior;
married to Calpurnia, daughter of L. Calpurnius Piso
Calenus, Quintus Fufius an old crony of Clodius and Antony; a supporter of Caesar and an enemy of
Cicero; father-in-law of Pansa
Cassius, Gaius Longinus senator and able soldier; married to Servilia’s daughter, Junia Tertia, and
thus Brutus’s brother-in-law
Cato, Marcus Porcius half-brother of Servilia; uncle of Brutus; a Stoic and a stern upholder of the
traditions of the republic
Cicero, Marcus Tullius Junior Cicero’s son
Cicero, Quintus Tullius Cicero’s younger brother; senator and soldier; married to Pomponia, the
sister of Atticus; governor of Asia, 61–58 BC
Cicero, Quintus Tullius Junior Cicero’s nephew
Clodia daughter of one of the most distinguished families in Rome, the patrician Appii Claudii; the
sister of Clodius; the widow of Metellus Celer
Clodius Pulcher, Publius scion of the leading patrician dynasty, the Appii Claudii; a former brotherin-law of L. Lucullus; the brother of Clodia, with whom he is alleged to have had an incestuous affair;
at his trial for sacrilege Cicero gave evidence against him; transferred to the plebs at the instigation of
Caesar and elected tribune
Cornutus, Marcus one of Caesar’s officers, appointed urban praetor in 44 BC
Crassipes, Furius Tullia’s second husband; a senator; a friend of Crassus
Crassus, Marcus Licinius former consul; member of the “triumvirate”; brutal suppressor of the slave
revolt led by Spartacus; the richest man in Rome; a bitter rival of Pompey
Crassus, Publius son of Crassus the triumvir; cavalry commander under Caesar in Gaul; an admirer
of Cicero
Decimus properly styled Brutus, Decimus Junius Albinus, but not to be confused with Brutus
(above); brilliant young military commander in Gaul; a protégé of Caesar
Dolabella, Publius Cornelius Tullia’s third husband; one of Caesar’s closest lieutenants—young,
charming, precocious, ambitious, licentious, brutal
Fulvia wife of Clodius; subsequently married to Mark Antony
Hirtius, Aulus one of Caesar’s staff officers in Gaul, groomed for a political career; a noted gourmet,
a scholar who helped Caesar with his Commentaries
Horensius Hortalus, Quintus former consul, for many years the leading advocate at the Roman bar,
until displaced by Cicero; a leader of the patrician faction; immensely wealthy; like Cicero, a civilian
politician and not a soldier
Isauricus, Publius Servilius Vatia a patrician, son of one of the grand old men of the Senate, who
nevertheless chose to support Caesar; elected praetor in 54 BC
Labienus, Titus a soldier and former tribune from Pompey’s home region of Picenum; one of
Caesar’s ablest commanders in Gaul
Lepidus, Marcus Aemilius patrician senator, married to a daughter of Servilia; member of the
College of Pontiffs
Milo, Titus Annius a tough street-wise politician, an owner of gladiators
Nepos, Quintus Caecilius Metellus consul at the time of Cicero’s return from exile
Octavian, Gaius Julius Caesar Caesar’s great-nephew and heir
Pansa, Gaius Vibius one of Caesar’s commanders in Gaul
Philippus, Lucius Marcius consul soon after Cicero’s return from exile; married to Caesar’s niece,
Atia, and thus the stepfather of Octavian; owner of a villa next door to Cicero’s on the Bay of Naples
Philotimus Terentia’s business manager, of questionable honesty
Piso, Lucius Calpurnius consul at the time of Cicero’s exile, and thus an enemy of Cicero’s; Caesar’s
father-in-law
Plancius, Gnaeus quaestor of Macedonia; his family were friends from the same region of Italy as the
Ciceros
Plancus, Lucius Munatius close lieutenant of Caesar, appointed governor of Further Gaul in 44 BC
Pompey, Gnaeus Magnus born in the same year as Cicero; for many years the most powerful man in
the Roman world; a former consul and victorious general who has already triumphed twice; a member
of the “triumvirate” with Caesar and Crassus; married to Caesar’s daughter, Julia
Rufus, Marcus Caelius Cicero’s former pupil; the youngest senator in Rome—brilliant, ambitious,
unreliable
Servilia ambitious and politically shrewd half-sister of Cato; the long-term mistress of Caesar; the
mother of three daughters and a son, Brutus, by her first husband
Servius Sulpicius Rufus contemporary and old friend of Cicero, famed as one of the greatest legal
experts in Rome; married to Postumia, a mistress of Caesar
Spinther, Publius Cornelius Lentulus consul at the time of Cicero’s return from exile; an enemy of
Clodius and friend of Cicero
Terentia wife of Cicero; ten years younger than her husband, richer and of nobler birth; devoutly
religious, poorly educated, with conservative political views; mother of Cicero’s two children, Tullia
and Marcus
Tiro Cicero’s devoted private secretary, a family slave, three years younger than his master, the
inventor of a system of shorthand
Tullia Cicero’s daughter
Vatinius, Publius a senator and soldier famed for his ugliness; a close ally of Caesar
Part One
Exile
58 bc–47 bc
Nescire autem quid ante quam natus sis acciderit, id est semper esse puerum. Quid
enim est aetas hominis, nisi ea memoria rerum veterum cum superiorum aetate
contexitur?
To be ignorant of what occurred before you were born is to remain always a child. For
what is the worth of human life, unless it is woven into the life of our ancestors by the
records of history?
—Cicero, Orator, 46 BC
I remember the cries of Caesar’s war-horns chasing us over the darkened fields of Latium—their
yearning, keening howls, like animals in heat—and how when they stopped there was only the slither
of our shoes on the icy road and the urgent panting of our breath.
It was not enough for the immortal gods that Cicero should be spat at and reviled by his fellow
citizens; not enough that in the middle of the night he be driven from the hearths and altars of his
family and ancestors; not enough even that as we fled from Rome on foot he should look back and see
his house in flames. To all these torments they deemed it necessary to add one further refinement: that
he should be forced to hear his enemy’s army striking camp on the Field of Mars.
Even though he was the oldest of our party Cicero kept up the same fast pace as the rest of us. Not
long ago he had held Caesar’s life in the palm of his hand. He could have crushed it as easily as an
egg. Now their fortunes led them in entirely opposite directions. While Cicero hurried south to escape
his enemies, the architect of his destruction marched north to take command of both provinces of
Gaul.
He walked with his head down, not uttering a word and I imagined it was because he was too full of
despair to speak. Only at dawn, when we rendezvoused with our horses at Bovillae and were about to
embark on the second stage of our escape, did he pause with his foot in the doorway of his carriage
and say suddenly, “Do you think we should turn back?”
The question caught me by surprise. “I don’t know,” I said. “I hadn’t considered it.”
“Well, consider it now. Tell me: why are we fleeing Rome?”
“Because of Clodius and his mob.”
“And why is Clodius so powerful?”
“Because he’s a tribune and can pass laws against you.”
“And who made it possible for him to become a tribune?”
I hesitated. “Caesar.”
“Exactly. Caesar. Do you imagine that man’s departure for Gaul at that precise hour was a
coincidence? Of course not! He waited till his spies had reported I’d left the city before ordering his
army to move. Why? I’d always assumed his advancement of Clodius was to punish me for speaking
out against him. But what if his real aim all along was to drive me out of Rome? What scheme
requires him to be certain I’ve gone before he can leave too?”
I should have grasped the logic of what he was saying. I should have urged him to turn back. But I
was too exhausted to reason clearly. And if I am honest there was more to it than that. I was too afraid
of what Clodius’s thugs might do to us if they caught us re-entering the city.
So instead I said, “It’s a good question, and I can’t pretend I have the answer. But wouldn’t it look
indecisive, after bidding goodbye to everyone, suddenly to reappear? In any case, Clodius has burned
your house down now—where would we return to? Who would take us in? I think you’d be wiser to
stick to your original plan and get as far away from Rome as you can.”
He rested his head against the side of the carriage and closed his eyes. In the pale grey light I was
shocked by how haggard he appeared after his night on the road. His hair and beard had not been cut
for weeks. He was wearing a toga dyed black. Although he was only in his forty-ninth year, these
public signs of mourning made him look much older—like some ancient, mendicant holy man. After a
while he sighed. “I don’t know, Tiro. Perhaps you’re right. It’s so long since I slept I’m too tired to
think any more.”
And so the fatal error was made—more through indecision than decision—and we continued to
press on southwards for the remainder of that day and for the twelve days that followed, putting what
we thought was a safe distance between ourselves and danger.
We travelled with a minimal entourage to avoid attracting attention—just the carriage driver and
three armed slaves on horseback, one in front and two behind. A small chest of gold and silver coins
that Atticus, Cicero’s oldest and closest friend, had provided to pay for our journey was hidden under
our seat. We stayed only in the houses of men we trusted, no more than a night in each, and steered
clear of those places where Cicero might have been expected to stop—for example at his seaside villa
at Formiae, the first place any pursuers would look for him, and along the Bay of Naples, already
filling with the annual exodus from Rome in search of winter sun and warm springs. Instead we
headed as fast as we could towards the toe of Italy.
Cicero’s plan, conceived on the move, was to make for Sicily and stay there until the political
agitation against him in Rome subsided. “The mob will turn on Clodius eventually,” he predicted.
“Such is the unalterable nature of the mob. He will always be my mortal enemy but he won’t always
be tribune—we must never forget that. In nine months his term of office will expire and then we can
go back.”
He was confident of a friendly reception from the Sicilians, if only because of his successful
prosecution of the island’s tyrannical governor, Verres—even though that brilliant victory, which
launched his political career, was now twelve years in the past and Clodius had more recently been a
magistrate in the province. I sent letters ahead giving notice of his intention to seek sanctuary, and
when we reached the harbour at Regium we hired a little six-oared boat to row us across the straits to
Messina.
We left the harbour on a clear cold winter morning of searing blues—the sea and the sky; one light,
one dark; the line dividing them as sharp as a blade; the distance to Messina a mere three miles. It
took us less than an hour. We drew so close we could see Cicero’s supporters lined up on the rocks to
welcome him. But stationed between us and the entrance to the port was a warship flying the red and
green colours of the governor of Sicily, Gaius Vergilius, and as we approached the lighthouse it
slipped its anchor and moved slowly forwards to intercept us. Vergilius stood at the rail surrounded by
his lictors and, after visibly recoiling at Cicero’s dishevelled appearance, shouted down a greeting, to
which Cicero replied in friendly terms. They had known one another in the Senate for many years.
Vergilius asked him his intentions.